


Breaking an Angel

by adexia



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Neglect, Rescue, Touch-Starved, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 15:17:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15415812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adexia/pseuds/adexia
Summary: "You are going to be as miserable, and lonely, and scared as we all were."Zelos wakes up with no memory of last night. Ordinarily, that wouldn't be a huge deal for him, but he's in a prison cell, and his captors are not totally happy with the reunification of the two worlds. Endgame/Postgame spoilers.Fill #12 for Bad Things Happen Bingo: Touch-starved





	Breaking an Angel

Zelos wakes up on a cold stone floor, staring at a stone ceiling. Not the first time he’s found himself in this position. The location is different though. He sits up with a groan, rubbing his head as it starts pounding, and takes a look at his surroundings.

He’s in some kind of prison cell. So, that’s a first. Looks pretty cruddy, so it’s probably from the Sylvarant side of things. “O-kay, Zelos, let’s try and remember how you got here,” he grumbles, cautiously getting to his feet and going to the metal bars forming one wall. He’s been traveling with Lloyd, so this probably wasn’t the result of a wild party, which does narrow things down a lot.

“What’s the last thing I remember…” He wracks his brain, but all he can get is setting up camp with some fellow travelers. He was getting more into this whole “wilderness survival” thing, especially since he’s doing it with Lloyd. He grins, remembering the smile on his maybe-more-than-a-friend’s face as he shook hands with the others. But after that…

“Nothing,” he says with a defeated sigh, turning his attention to the cell itself. It’s definitely crappier than ones he’s seen in Tethe’alla--from the outside of course. One wood bench chained to the wall, iron loops driven into the walls, some kind of crusty pot under the bench that he has a strong desire not to interact with. No window. The iron bars look pretty sturdy, and so do the chains wrapped around the door, but he can probably bust ‘em open with a spell or two. He’ll be out of here in a jiffy.

Wait, no, Lloyd’s always telling him he has to follow the law and stuff. Maybe he did something stupid and he got himself arrested and he somehow doesn’t remember it. He’s definitely been blackout drunk before, it could happen again. With a huff, he peers down the corridors outside the cell as far as he can see. “Hey! I’m awake in here!” he calls. “Helloooo!”

Someone comes into view after a few moments, and he’s briefly cheered to see it’s one of the travelers they’d stopped to camp with (last night? Goddess, he hopes it was just last night). “Hey, I remember you!” he says, wrapping his hands around the bars and giving his most winning hangover smile. “It’s uhhh, Bruin, right? Help a guy out?”

The man crosses his arms, looking Zelos up and down with a look that’s become unfortunately familiar since the worlds merged. The look of someone not entirely happy to meet the Chosen One of the world that was slowly killing their own. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” Zelos asks, biting back a twinge of nervousness. “We were getting along, right? You and your friend and me and Lloyd?”

“It’s _Brand,_ ” the man says. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember, with a reputation like yours.”

“Right, right, sorry, Brand,” Zelos corrects himself. “I mean, can you blame me? I meet charming new people all the time, it’s just so hard to remember!”

Brand fixes him with a steely glare, and Zelos feels himself flinch a bit, like he’s on the receiving end of one of Raine’s lectures. “...Anyway. Can you let me out of here?”

“You know what, Zelos, I could,” Brand says, sticking his hands in his pockets. “But I don’t think I’m gonna.” Before Zelos can process that, he continues. “Cause you know what? We don’t need someone like you prancing around, pretending you’re helping.”

“I--wha--I _am_ helping!” he protests, squeezing the bars. “I’m helping Lloyd with his Exsphere collection so he can destroy them! Those things are messed up, you know!”

“ _Of course I know!_ ” Brand snarls, slamming his fist onto Zelos’s fingers. He yelps and yanks his hands away, holding his injured fingers close to his chest. “I almost _was_ one!” He yanks his shirt collar down, exposing the scar there.

Zelos winces; he’s met enough human ranch survivors to know the marks from where they were shackled and abused. “I’m so sorry for you, man,” he says, and he genuinely is, but he’s very often bad at expressing genuine emotions. “But what’s this got to do with me?”

“It has _everything_ to do with you,” Brand says, pointing an accusatory finger. “You people were starving our world, and you people were making us into marbles, and now that the worlds are fused you just expect us all to get along!”

“But I didn’t--” Brand cuts him off by slamming the bars again, and he shuts his lips.

“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t press the button on any of it, it was all done because of you!” he snaps. “You’re going to stay put here til we decide what to do about it.”

Zelos huffs. “We’ll see about that!” He moves his hands into position for a fire spell, mutters the incantation, and watches in triumph as the sparks ignite and… fizzle into nothing. “Uhh, what gives?!”

“Don’t bother with your fancy magic,” Brand says. “We found some of that magitechnology in an old Desian base--turns out it cancels out spells.” He shrugs. “We put a couple devices on the cells on either side of you. Dunno how it works, but it works.”

“This is crap!” Zelos says, stepping forward to squeeze the bars again. “Just let me out, we can talk this over or something!”

Brand’s hand snaps forward and through the bars, grabbing hold of Zelos’s hair and yanking him forward, smacking his face into the iron. While he scrabbles at his captor’s hand, Brand makes sure to look him in his eyes, which are starting to water. “You are going to stay in here,” Brand says, voice as cold as the stone and iron containing him. “And you are going to be as miserable, and lonely, and scared as we all were.” He shoves Zelos back into the wall and walks out while he’s still reeling.

\---

Zelos spends the better part of an hour trying to get various spells to work. The best he manages is a weak spark of lightning that he ends up shocking himself with; everything else fizzles or sputters or drips uselessly, and he figures that if he keeps trying, he’ll just waste all his mana, so he gives it up. He feels around the stones, looking for any kind of weak spot he can exploit. He finds nothing and sits heavily on the bench, trying to think of what he can do next.

Shit, what if Lloyd’s in here too?! He hadn’t even thought about that, and now he feels like an asshole. He leaps over to the bars, trying to look down the corridor. “Lloyd?” he shouts. “Hey, bud, you there?! Answer me if you are!”

“Shut up!” someone down the corridor shouts back, and Zelos determines that Lloyd probably isn’t here. Lloyd’s one of them, of course, and he’s the big hero who saved both worlds. They wouldn’t lay a finger on him.

Relieved, Zelos sits back down. Lloyd will definitely be looking for him. But kind, friendly, brave, _wonderful_ Lloyd is also, unfortunately, and to put it very kindly, not too bright. Even if he finds this place, Zelos thinks there’s a good chance he won’t ever find out he’s in here. Maybe if he strains his ears--and boy, wouldn’t it be wonderful to have hearing as good as Colette’s now--he can hear Lloyd talking to someone, and make a ruckus.

Yeah. Solid plan. He’ll be out of here in no time.

\---

He thinks it’s been four days, and Zelos is sure he’s gonna go crazy in here.

Nobody talks to him except to yell at him for being too talkative. Whenever they bring him tasteless food or empty out the unfortunate pot under the bench--so far, once a day each--someone in heavy armor shoves him into a corner with his arms twisted up against his back so he can’t even think of escape. He tells them it’s a little excessive, and they don’t answer.

The little cell gets goddess-awful cold at night, and he huddles up on the uncomfortable bench. His vest is the only blanket he has, and it isn’t even warm enough or big enough. He misses all the crummy inns they’ve stayed at. Hell, he misses being able to stretch out in front of a campfire or curl up in a tent.

More than anything he misses Lloyd’s presence. He’s always got something to talk about with Lloyd, whether it’s some feature of Sylvarant that Zelos is new to or just a letter they got from one of their friends by carrier pigeon. He misses Lloyd’s little touches--that guy got awfully touchy-feely after they started traveling together. Just bumping into him while they walk or putting a hand on his shoulder while they (to the best of their combined ability) try to discuss strategy. Even just sitting near each other by the fire when they have to camp is nice.

And Holy Martel does he miss being able to take baths.

\---

One afternoon (he’s lost track of how long he’s been in here), a few of his guards approach with his food and with a sigh, he automatically gets up and faces the wall, hands clasped behind his back. “Look at that, he _can_ learn,” one of them snickers. Zelos grits his teeth as the chain-lock is removed and the door opens. He doesn’t even look up, fully expecting to be pressed against the wall like usual, but all he hears is the sound of the wooden plate being set on the floor, and then the lock is back in place.

What if this is some kind of trick? He slowly turns his head, and relaxes his posture when he sees they’re already gone. He forces his badly-cooked meal down, and slides the barren plate and cup out between the bars for them to collect later. It’s not enough to fill him up, never is, but he just has to deal with that.

\---

His skin feels cold all the time, even when he’s wrapped up in his vest. Ever since he started positioning himself how they wanted for their rare visits, the little human contact he got was taken from him. He wonders if it would be worth it to act up when they bring food again, just to feel that bit of warmth on his arms.

“Zelos, you’re being stupid again,” he tells himself, staring listlessly up at the ceiling. “You don’t want them to touch you. And they probably don’t want to touch you either.”

He doesn’t even realize his next meal’s been skipped until his stomach starts hurting. He sits up, grimacing at his joints aching from the continuous cold. “Yo, where’s my food?” he calls down the corridor when he gets over to the bars.

He’s met with silence. He swallows dryly and tries again. “Hey, is anyone gonna bring me my food or what?!” Nothing. “C’mon! Just some water at least! You don’t wanna starve me, do you?!”

Nothing.

He waits several minutes, then sits back down on the bench, peeling off his gloves to rub his chilly arms. “Okay,” he mutters, pulling his knees up to his chest and huddling there. “They probably just forgot and they’re making it now. Maybe the stove broke. Maybe they’re out shopping.”

He keeps thinking up rationalizations long after it gets dark and he curls up for another night of restless sleep.

The sound of the chain being unlocked wakes him in the morning, and he sits bolt upright in confusion. Isn’t it too early for… whatever? His head is still too foggy to remember things. His stomach is practically howling, though.

A plate of his usual fare is placed on the floor, and Zelos is on it like lightning, cramming the hard bread and absolutely tasteless meat into his mouth right there on the cold stone. “Can’t believe he used to think he was so much better than everyone,” one of his captors comments. “They used to do this to us back in the ranch, you know? Just not feed us? Only sometimes it was for longer than a night.”

Zelos shudders at the idea, but he doesn’t look up. “You ain’t on our level yet,” the other says. “But we’ll get you there.”

They leave, slamming the door so hard Zelos flinches. He cleans his plate and crawls back up on the bench, still exhausted, still starving.

\---

He doesn’t even realize how loudly he’s been talking to himself until someone storms into his cell and yanks him up by his hair (his poor hair really needs brushed, he thinks vaguely, still trying to cling to some hint of normalcy). “Can’t you just shut up for five minutes?” his captor shouts, practically screaming in Zelos’s face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll stop!” Zelos says, struggling to get to his feet so his hair won’t get pulled out by the roots. “Just let me go, come on!” He clutches desperately to the hand holding his hair hostage.

His captor shoves him backwards to release him, and he tumbles back onto the bench, hands covering his head protectively.

There’s a hard impact across his face, and Zelos sprawls onto the floor, hands moving to his cheek. He feels like he’s been cut with a knife. When he pulls his hand away, he sees blood, and looks up to see that his assailant is shaking blood off one of their armored gauntlets.

“Hope that teaches you a lesson,” they snap, before storming off and locking him away again.

Zelos curls up on the floor, holding his wounded cheek and pretending not to cry.

\---

More than anything, Zelos is cold. He misses warmth, he misses gentleness, he misses Lloyd’s hand on his shoulder.

After a few more encounters with the gauntlet, he misses talking, too.

\---

The sound of steel on steel wakes him, and at first he thinks someone is clanging his door shut again. But when he doesn’t see anyone in his little cell, he thinks it was just another nightmare, and closes his eyes again. The sounds don’t stop though. So maybe he’s hallucinating. He curls up tighter on the bench, willing sleep to come again.

Someone is shouting his name. He forces his eyes open, and sees a blob of obnoxious bright red that makes his heart swell. “Lloyd?” he rasps.

“Guys, I found him!” Lloyd shouts, turning to look to the side. “Colette, can you get this cell open?”

His vision clarifies more, and he sees Colette, adorable, wonderful, very strong Colette swoop in with her wings spread and yank the door clean off its hinges. He struggles to his feet, but Lloyd is way ahead of him, running up and wrapping him in the warmest hug he’s ever had. “Lloyd, we should get him out of here,” he hears Colette say. “He doesn’t look good…”

Lloyd nods, releasing Zelos from the hug. He makes a weak noise of protest, but doesn’t complain as Lloyd lifts him up in his wonderfully warm arms. He leans into his friend’s chest, pretending not to cry again as he feels himself carried out of the cell and out into sunshine.

They stop outside the building, and Zelos opens his eyes, letting out a strangled cry of fear when he recognizes Brand and the person who’d most recently been encouraging his silence trying to block their exit. Lloyd’s arms tighten around him protectively. “You!” Lloyd says. “You were the one keeping him here?”

“He deserves to know what it was like for us!” Brand snaps. “His people had the same and worse done to us and our friends and families!”

“Zelos didn’t know it was happening!” Colette protests. “Doesn’t Martel teach that you shouldn’t repay wrongs with further wrongs?”

“Martel was fake anyway!” Brand screams. And Zelos is certain that Colette and Lloyd have a wonderful speech about faith and friendship and justice ready to go, but he very much needs to black out from fear now, and so he does.

\---

When he comes to much, much later, Zelos briefly thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. He’s amazingly warm, and there’s an actual pillow under his head and what feels like a mountain of blankets on top of him. With a small noise of contentment, he burrows into his comfortable surroundings.

“Hey,” a familiar voice whispers, and he opens his eyes, looking up into Lloyd’s worried face.

“Hey yourself,” he answers, voice barely a croak. “Got any water?”

Lloyd starts to stand, but Zelos reaches out to snag one of his ribbons with a hand, eyes wide. “Don’t go,” he whispers when his friend turns back in surprise.

“Okay, I won’t,” Lloyd reassures him, sitting back in the chair. “Hey Sheena, can you get some food and something to drink for Zelos?”

“Just a sec!” he hears from outside the room.

Lloyd wraps his hand around Zelos’s outstretched one, and tears spring to his eyes immediately at that simple, gentle, skin-to-skin contact. He clings as tightly as he can and shuts his eyes, willing for this to all be real.

“We contacted Professor Sage as soon as we got to a town,” Lloyd says, casually reaching down to wipe away his tears as if further acts of kindness aren’t just about killing him right now. “She should be here tomorrow to take a look at you.”

“Thanks, bud,” Zelos says, voice rough from emotion and disuse. “I guess I owe you one. Sorry for disappearing on you.”

Lloyd shakes his head vehemently. “Don’t you even apologize for this! Those people were wrong to do all this. I hope they can find some way to atone…”

Zelos would suggest murder, but that’s not how Lloyd rolls, and he’s too exhausted to think much about violence now.

Sheena comes in with a tray of the best-smelling food Zelos has ever encountered--he doesn’t even care what it is, after eating basically nothing for however long he’s pretty sure anything would smell as good. Even Raine’s cooking.

“I made you some of our traditional tea too,” Sheena says, pointing to the round mug. “It’ll help you get back on your feet.” She hesitates after setting the tray on the endtable. “...Shinobi give it to people we rescue from interrogations, so it should help you a lot.”

“Thanks,” Zelos says. Lloyd pulls the blankets back to help him sit, and boy, feeling those gentle, calloused hands on him is just bringing up all kinds of emotions. He sniffs and wipes more tears aside, then carefully picks up the bowl of soup. It’s almost too hot for his bare hands, but he’ll take any sensation besides numb and cold just about now.

Sheena gives Lloyd’s shoulder a squeeze. “Take care of that idiot for us, okay?” she says. “I gotta get back to work.”

Lloyd nods, smiling. “Of course. Thanks so much for helping find him, Sheena.” With a wave to Zelos, she leaves the room.

Zelos lets the comfortable silence wrap around them while he scarfs down the food, deciding to ignore that he’s still just absolutely sobbing for now. “So,” he finally says, once he’s cleaned every last drop from his bowl and started on his tea, which is very bitter but still better than anything he’s ever had in his entire life. “How long.”

“How long what? Oh,” Lloyd says, realizing. He looks down at his lap, fists clenching there. “...A month.”

“Damn.” Zelos looks down at his hands, ignoring their shaking and holding the mug tighter. “Feels like longer.” He drains the rest of the tea in one gulp to distract himself and sets it down. As soon as he does, Lloyd’s arms are around him.

“I was so worried,” he says, voice wavering. “I thought you’d died, and when it turned out to be so much worse than that, I…” He squeezes Zelos tight, and the contact would’ve made him start sobbing if he wasn’t already. “I wanted to kill them, I really did.”

“Y-you should’ve,” Zelos mumbles, returning the embrace with trembling arms. Anything to feel Lloyd’s warmth more. “They were shitty and awful.”

Lloyd shakes his head. “Colette said they’re misguided… I want to think that’s true. But it’s hard.” His breath catches. “I was so scared for you, when I saw you in there. If I hadn’t been carrying you I would’ve…” He lets the implication go.

“Thanks for not dropping me to go ahead with it,” Zelos mumbles, burying his face in Lloyd’s shoulder. “Really appreciate it, Lloyd.”

Lloyd presses his lips to the top of his head, not quite a kiss, but enough to make Zelos feel okay again.


End file.
